


In Fire's Embrace

by ChibiStarr



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-10 14:22:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18662155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibiStarr/pseuds/ChibiStarr
Summary: Sometimes Celebrimbor falls asleep while at his forge. Sauron carries him back.





	In Fire's Embrace

The Dark Lord smelled of smoke and hot metal, of a searing heat that would cause the air around him to ripple like water when he moved. Even so much as being near him was akin to being near a raging furnace, but Celebrimbor would little be anywhere else when Sauron was around.

Even when laying upon his lord meant that he had to endure the heat of his skin and the heavy air around him, Telperinquar gladly traded such small comforts. Anything to bathe in the light and radiance of Sauron, anything to drink in the golden light fluttering around him and to hear the soft notes of his speech, ever soft like black dust and fanning flame. Each word so perfect it was like listening to art.

Inspiration drove him to his forge again and again, to hammer out more rings, more gifts to give to Sauron in some attempt to give tribute to his beauty. But it was not enough, it was never enough. Never perfect enough to grace his form, Celebrimbor would have destroyed them all in a fit of rage if he didn’t wear himself out completely first trying to fix his mistakes.

It was there his lord always found him, sleeping quietly on his worktable, and Telperinquar would stir gently in his lord’s arms, wreathed in red fabric and the incense of metal surrounding him, until a golden voice would sing him gently back to sleep. Jeweled fingers would stroke through his hair, their touch a song all on its own that lifted Celebrimbor’s fëa into a soft dance and brought him right back down to sleep again.

The heat was in his dreams. Always chasing him, a small torment on its own. Yet when he opened his eyes after enduring it for so long, he found himself in his lord’s arms, covered by the rich red silks of his bed and the fire-colored hair embracing them in waves. And open, watching him with the scrutiny that he always did, was the lidless eye upon his lord’s forehead.

He could have died from the joy of it.


End file.
